


Or so she thought

by iwriteiloveiam



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Opposites Attract, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-04-12 16:25:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19135765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwriteiloveiam/pseuds/iwriteiloveiam
Summary: She glanced around. That’s when she finally saw him, dishevelled, eyes glazed, beer in hand, stepping out of his room. Flashes of sneaking in there with Octavia to get away from the crowd flooded her, and a smile began to tug softly on her lips as she sighed in relief and began to make her way over, hips sashaying, heart racing. Fancy seeing you here, she thought with a tongue-click. I was starting to think…She froze. From behind him, a tall, slim figure emerged. Long legs and dark skin, the woman fumbled with the buttons on the top of her dress, only to quickly adjust its length over her thighs. Her hair, though in braids, was ruffled, and she undid those next, letting the waves tumble over her shoulders in gorgeous, brown curls. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes scoured the room, determining whether anyone had seen them. His did the same.~~Clarke decided to forgo sanity and accept Bellamy's invitation to one of his many college parties: only to discover that her feelings are unreciprocated.Or so she thought.





	1. Chapter 1

She took a cautious sip of her drink. The taste of stale beer and plastic clung to her lips. She observed the packed, writhing bodies coolly. Sweat gathered at the back of her neck. The faint scent of marijuana wafted from beneath a closed door down the hall; soon, it overpowered the room, and everyone was lost in smoky haze and stifling heat and pounding music. She would sway to its erratic tempo, nodding her head along to the occasional wayward eye. Everyone was too far gone to notice her distance, and any attempt to pull her in was second-guessed and thought the better of; she didn’t really belong here, after all, so in the shadows, tucked away, seemed justified. Right.

A stranger in a strange land.

Eventually she’d see him. He’d emerge out of some doorway or other, and she’d be able to breathe again. Her heart would seize, a small, seismic tremor, against her will, and he’d tilt his head in greeting and hide his lips behind a bottle and his eyes would take her in fully, admiring her cleavage, then her curves, and something snarky would slip out like _You made it_. And she’d laugh and roll her eyes and quip back at him playfully. Octavia would normally murmur something about getting a room and storm off, but not far; she knew if she disappeared for too long her brother would come looking.

That left the two of them often unsupervised.

Their conversations were brief, tense, and typically resulted in a fight that would have Clarke fuming for the rest of the night. But she always came back. Bellamy didn’t extend too many invites to the college parties at his off-campus house, especially considering her and Octavia were still seniors in high school, but once his roommate Lincoln entered the picture, he didn’t have much of a choice. They became as much a staple as the cheap beer. He claimed it was fine, that way he could keep a more watchful eye on his sister ( _If she’s going to party, might as well be where I can make sure she’s safe,_ he’d said), but Clarke long suspected he’d realized that wherever Octavia went, she followed. Her presence assured Clarke’s.

Except tonight. Tonight Octavia and Lincoln had decided to skip the party in favour of a night-in, leaving Clarke at the mercy of her urge to dance and drink. And see Bellamy, she’d thought before throwing her head into her covers to stifle a scream. After much debate, she’d decided to fuck it. It was 80s-themed, meaning they’d play the classics she knew the words to, and her favourite blazer rocked an excellent pair of shoulder pads. She’d smuggled a bottle of wine from her mom’s stock, parked her car a few streets down, and guzzled half of it in an old McDonald’s cup listening to Billie Eilish. She’d sent Octavia a quick text alerting her of her plans to tear up the dance floor (to which she’d replied: _Tell my brother hi ; )_ ) and refrained from driving home three times. She was already slightly buzzed, so that left the party; the good book and cup of hot tea could wait.

 

Plus, she knew some of his friends. Jasper and Monty were always good for a laugh. One tended the bar while the other kept the music honest; they’d yell in her direction any time they whipped up a new concoction or needed an opinion on the next song. Murphy, his other roommate, sulked on the couch. They’d only really been introduced, but Clarke was certain if she needed to she could sidle up next to him and no one was sure to approach. If Raven was there without her boyfriend, Finn, she wouldn’t have a problem at all, that woman was warm and wild and loved dragging Clarke around. But she got a weird vibe from Finn, who she caught staring at her more times than could be called coincidence. If any of them were there, she’d at least have a familiar face to gravitate toward.

She’d taken a deep breath by the time she reached the front door, convinced she’d be fine without her backup. After all, she’d never admit it out loud, but she was really here to see Bellamy.

If he was here, she’d be safe.

Or so she thought.

¬

She glanced around. That’s when she finally saw him, disheveled, eyes glazed, beer in hand, stepping out of his room. Flashes of sneaking in there with Octavia to get away from the crowd flooded her, and a smile began to tug softly on her lips as she sighed in relief and began to make her way over, hips sashaying, heart racing. _Fancy seeing you here,_ she thought with a tongue-click. _I was starting to think_ …

She froze. From behind him, a tall, slim figure emerged. Long legs and dark skin, the woman fumbled with the buttons on the top of her dress, only to quickly adjust its length over her thighs. Her hair, though in braids, was ruffled, and she undid those next, letting the waves tumble over her shoulders in gorgeous, brown curls. Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes scoured the room, determining whether anyone had seen them. His did the same.

All she saw was the back door after that. She remembered maneuvering through entangled limbs, head spinning, and placing her drink on a table somewhere after downing it. Cold air enveloped her as she stumbled down the back steps, towards the stone path that rounded the garage. The music grew distant. Her eyes tried to focus on sidewalks and streetlights, but for some reason all she could see was his throat, swallowing sip after sip, eyes roaming the crowd nonchalantly. She wondered if he was looking for her.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

It was stupid of her to come. What did she think was going to happen? She was a high school student; no one really wanted her there. His friends had waved, but were too absorbed with potential hook-ups and playlists to pay her mind. It was stupid of her to think she could handle it without Octavia. At least when they were ignored, they could gossip and giggle in the corner behind their drinks, guessing at the scandals taking place before them.

And it was stupid of her to think Bellamy cared.

She fumbled for her keys, turning on the street where her car was tucked by a tree. She wasn’t sober enough to drive yet, but waiting it out behind a steering wheel in a dark alley sounded exponentially better than sharing a couch with Murphy and choking back tears. Plus, staying behind risked the chance of Bellamy spotting her, pathetically alone and clearly distraught.

  
Or worse. If she stayed behind, she’d have to see _her_ with him.

Now that she definitely couldn’t bear.

Firing off a text to Octavia, _Hey, party’s a bust, didn’t miss much. Headed home soon_ , Clarke caught a glimpse of her reflection in her car window and fought the instinct to sob. She looked ridiculous, with her hair half-up in a white scrunchie to match her shoes, and tore it out immediately. Leaning her head against the side of her car, she hoped the dizziness would clear away soon so she could retreat to her bed and never show her face anywhere near this block again.

_God, I’m so stupid, why-_

‘Clarke?’


	2. Chapter 2

‘Clarke?’

She recognized the voice instantly. She’d only heard it a few times before, hurtling slurred insults at Murphy over loudspeakers or trying the room for the next arm-wrestling opponent, but it lacked its usual testiness now. Instead of its fiery edge, it took on a softer tone.

She looked up just in time to catch the flash of a familiar high ponytail. ‘Clarke! I thought it was you!’ Arms enveloped her. Everything happened so fast, but the weight of the hug grounded her. She needed it more than Raven probably realized.

‘It’s good to see you, girl,’ her spitfire friend beamed as she pulled back. ‘You going to Blake’s?’

Rather than getting into it, Clarke shrugged, hoping the tears she’d been about to shed would crawl back inside. He didn’t deserve them, anyway. ‘Just came from there, actually.’

‘Oh no! Was it lame? Did Murphy ruin it with another comment again? I swear to god, if he would just-’

‘No, no, I’m just tired,’ Her lips cracked into a smile. ‘Murphy’s off the hook.’

‘Oh,’ Raven’s eyes roamed over her questioningly. ‘You good to drive home?’

Clarke thought about it for a moment, but decided she was too tipsy, and Raven too perceptive, to lie through her teeth; her breath smelled strongly of wine, her sway was noticeable, and not even the discovery of Bellamy’s new conquest could sober her up enough to feign a clear head.

‘Not really. But I thought it was better to wait out here than snuggle up to everyone’s favorite cynic.’

‘In the alley? By yourself? On a college campus?’ Before she could protest, Raven had her arm in hers. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We can hang out in Blake’s room till you’re good.’

Flashes of Bellamy’s throat, chugging the contents of a red solo cup, of the dark-haired girl with long legs, of his slightly ajar door and the tousled bed sheets beyond, barely visible through the crack, flooded Clarke’s mind. She fought Raven’s pull toward the street. ‘What about Finn?’

‘We’re taking a break,’ Raven slipped out, a little too quickly.

‘I’m sorry-’

‘You know what? Fuck him. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to dance, and drink.’

Clarke didn’t resist as much as they rounded the sidewalk. Finn and Raven, over? Just a few weeks ago they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Now this?

She wondered absently if it had anything to do with the way Finn was eyeing her- and seemingly every other girl at the party.

After a moment of silent fuming, Raven huffed. ‘You know what? Men are the fucking worst.’ She didn’t even have to look at Clarke to know she agreed. ‘I vote we storm into this party, claim a bottle of whatever has the most left in it, and take it straight to the dance floor. They should be playing all the hits, so we’ll know the words. And we just…dance it out. Show them all they can’t fuck with us.’

Clarke wasn’t sure if it was the wine or her broken heart that thought this was a good idea. Both, probably.

‘Clarke,’ Raven swung to face her suddenly, ‘I know you’re tired, but do you think you could do me a solid and be my person tonight? I just…I need someone to get shit-faced with. I need a shoulder.’

She weighed her options. Either she turn around, camp out behind the wheel and cry to Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’ until she was steady enough to drive home and curl up under her covers, alone, or she parade back into a party where she knew practically no one and would have to suffer the sight of Bellamy with another girl, but could 1) drink to forget, 2) dance like an idiot with the only other person who felt as horrible as she did, and 3) prove to him that he meant nothing.

She returned Raven’s plea with a smirk. ‘I’ve got your back.’

They were at the door before Clarke could see reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picked this back up again, got inspired :) I'm sorry it's so short! I'll keep developing it this week into a longer chapter with all the good drama.


	3. Chapter 3

If no one knew who Clarke was before the party, they did now.

Two tequila shots, two vodka red bulls, and an off-key rendition of Toto’s _Africa_ later, she found herself performing a badly timed macarena on the coffee table in the center of the living room.

Raven was with her, of course. The two had tackled everything from Bon Jovi to Journey to Stevie Wonder in the hour since they’d waltzed through the front door, arm in arm, with a newly minted conviction: don’t give a fuck. They embraced it whole-heartedly. Jasper and Monty kept them placated with hits, and soon the room buzzed with their infectious energy; Raven shouted at people who weren’t dancing or drinking, leaving behind only the foolhardy to join in their frenzy. Bellamy wasn’t among them. Clarke spotted him occasionally weaving in and out of rooms, targeting no one in particular; the girl he was with before sulked in a corner, clearly upset she wasn’t the focus of his attention. He never once looked in her direction.

By her fourth drink, Clarke thought that was the funniest shit she’d ever seen.

To be fair, he didn’t look at Clarke, either. _Good,_ she’d thought as she shed her blazer and threw it into the crowd of adoring onlookers. _He can fuck right off._ She didn’t give a single damn.

The boys had strayed from the 80s at this point in an attempt to help Raven with her current endeavor: getting Murphy to dance. It was a brave undertaking; one she had been struggling with for fifteen minutes.

‘Come _on!’_ She yanked on his arm, but to no avail; not even the macarena’s irresistible rhythm could entice him. It seemed as if Raven’s whole night of forgetting Finn boiled down to one asshole’s refusal to party. If she couldn’t get him to whip out a sprinkler or slip in a classic shopping cart, then God them help them all, she’d either set the place on fire or curl up into a ball and cry. Clarke wasn’t sure which one would be harder to handle.

‘One dance won’t kill you, but _I will_ ,’ she gritted her teeth and pulled again.

He sat there like a statue and tried not to laugh.

‘Clarke, help. Please?’

‘You’re calling blondie in for backup?’

‘Trust me,’ Raven warned with mustered sincerity, ‘You do _not_ want to get on her bad side.’

Clarke knew she had no proof of anything. There were no stories of retribution. She could be fostering kittens and dishing out meals at soup kitchens for all Raven knew, but she smiled sinisterly nonetheless. It felt good to be feared. If only Raven could say that a little louder with a certain person near…

‘I’d listen to her if I was you. I’m known for my mean streak. I can make your life a living hell.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Color Murphy’s interest peaked finally. It was the first time she’d seen him show genuine curiosity in something that wasn’t reaching the bottom of his flask.

‘Don’t test me,’ Clarke hopped down from the table, snatched his drink, and emptied it in one gulp. Wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve, she threw the cup in his lap. ‘Need another?’

‘ _Shit girl!’_ Raven tossed her the biggest grin while Murphy remained speechless. ‘I like you!’

Clarke smiled triumphantly. ‘I’ll be back.’

Just as the opening notes of the _Electric Slide_ rang out, followed by a round of cheers, she’d managed to weave through the crowd and down a quieter hallway towards the bathroom. Her head spun, but not like before; now she felt goofy and warm. Full-on _drunk._ There were a few stragglers chatting softly, but the rest of the party had been drawn towards the living room.

Pulling out her phone, she fired off a quick text to Octavia seeing if she could bum a ride home or possibly crash on her couch. If not, she bet Raven didn’t live far from here; she could rough it one night on a dorm floor if she had to.

While she waited for a response, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. A smile spread itself across her face involuntarily as she pictured that girl alone in the corner, Bellamy nowhere in sight. She wondered who she was. Maybe somebody he met in class, or online, or maybe…

A loud crash jolted her awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm trying out this thing of writing for an hour every day and then just posting whatever I have :) They won't be long chapters, but I'll try to keep it updated regularly! Figured it's good incentive to try and break out of this writer's block. 
> 
> Thanks for reading everyone! Appreciate all the kudos and comments greatly.


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke flew into the room, picturing a toppled-over Raven straddling Murphy on the couch, punching him in the arm, or Jasper tripping over an extension cord. 

It took her a moment to process the scene. Finn cradled his jaw, lying on his back _(When did he get here?)._ Raven towered over him, eyes flaring, hands clenched in fists. Murphy stood beside Raven protectively, ready to pull her away should she lunge again, or throw himself in front of her should Finn get any bright ideas. The rest of the party clung to the walls. Jasper and Monty cut the music, causing stragglers to crowd open doorways, trying to get a peek at the commotion.

‘You son of a bitch,’ Raven spat at the boy on the ground.

‘Ra-Raven, I’m so sorry-’

‘Sorry?’ She laughed. It sent chills down Clarke’s spine. She couldn’t imagine how Finn felt. ‘You’re fucking sorry. Well, that’s great. Thanks. I feel so much better.’

‘I am, please. You have to believe me, I never-’

‘I don’t _have_ to do anything for you,’ She took a step toward him and the whole room gasped collectively. ‘You know what? Just get out.’ When he didn’t move to leave, she raged. Furious tears threatened to race down her cheeks. ‘ _Get. Out.’_

Clarke took the standstill as an opportunity to rescue her friend. ‘Raven,’ she hooked her arm and tried to lead her toward the back door. ‘Come on, let’s go. He’s not worth it.’

She had no clue what Finn had done, but if whatever it was had incurred Raven’s wrath, she was surprised to see him still alive with all limbs seemingly intact. His face would bruise, of course, but based on how the girl had supposedly gotten revenge in the past, he should be counting himself lucky. Clarke definitely wouldn’t want to cross her.

Suddenly, Bellamy appeared before them. ‘What the hell is going on?’

He took stock of Finn, still on the floor looking like a pathetic, crumpled mess, and Raven, her knuckles caked in blood. ‘You good?’ he asked her, his eyes barely registering Clarke. The moment they did, her stomach fluttered.  _Stop it_ , she warned herself. 

Raven nodded. ‘He needs to get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see him.’

She didn’t have to say anymore; both Murphy and Bellamy yanked him up under his shoulders and dragged him out of the room. It wasn’t until the front door slammed shut that Raven breathed a sigh of relief. ‘God, what a fucking night.’

‘You okay?’ They slumped on the couch together as the party resumed; Jasper and Monty kicked it into high gear with the playlist and passed around free shots. It was like Finn had never interrupted.

‘He cheated on me,’ Raven let a tear escape before wiping at it quickly. ‘Some girl in his class. He told me about it earlier today. Said it happened while I was home last weekend.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s just, you think you know someone…’ she sighed again. ‘Take my advice. Don’t ever fall in love. It’s the fucking worst, and you’ll only get hurt.’

 _Too late,_ Clarke thought bitterly. ‘I’m going to get you some water.’

Don’t fall in love, huh? Well, she wasn’t exactly doodling rainbows and hearts with bows through them that spelled out _Mrs. Blake_  in a secret notebook or listening to songs of the unrequited on repeat while making out with her pillow. If anything, she hated Bellamy more than she loved him. His whole white knight routine, the let-me-swoop-in-and-save-the-day act by ‘teaching the bad guy a lesson’ because I’m a dark and broody tortured soul type with a rap sheet and a pension for heroism…let’s just say, Clarke liked to poke fun at the big head that came with saving cats in trees and helping old ladies cross the street. But somewhere along the way, it became less ‘fun’ and more flirtatious. She’d never admit it to anyone, but there was something about the way he irked her that also turned her on.

She hated herself for this almost as much as she hated him.

Raven was right, though. Based on how the night was going for both of them, love only spelled out one ending: pain.

She filled two glasses of water at the sink and was on her way back to the living room when something out the window caught her eye. Moving aside the curtain slightly, she peered through the half-shuttered blinds to see Bellamy and Murphy still outside with an arguing Finn.

All of a sudden, Bellamy’s fist coiled and connected with Finn’s jaw, sending him spiraling backwards. His next words were loud enough that Clarke could hear them. ‘I never want to see you around her again, you hear me? She’s done with you. Leave her alone.’

‘Dude, you have no idea what you just lost,’ Murphy added. The two of them turned around to head inside, leaving Finn to stumble home.

 _Well, fuck._ Chivalry wasn’t dead, after all.

She brought a glass to Raven, and then excused herself to the bathroom. The past ten minutes had been a whirlwind, and she’d almost forgotten that’s why she left the room in the first place.

She was just drying her hands when she heard a knock on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone staying with this! :)


	5. Chapter 5

‘Clarke, you in there?’

_Fuck. Shit._ It was Bellamy.

Of course it was fucking Bellamy.

Checking up on her. Making sure she was okay. His baby sister’s best friend, too fragile to witness what typically goes down at a college party. She’d been the one to drag Raven away! Effectively breaking up the fight. Okay, well, distracting Raven, at least. Nothing or no one could stop Raven from doing what she wanted. Also, if he was so concerned, where the hell was he two hours ago, before Raven had shown up? Oh yeah, that’s right, with that long-legged, shampoo-commercial-looking bit-

The alcohol had hit.

She went to check herself out in the mirror-then paused. You know what? No. To hell with what Bellamy thought. Clearly, she was _not_ his type, so who cared what she fucking looked like?

Maybe she was on her way to getting over him after all.

Or so she thought.

‘Hey’ she slumped against the doorframe casually. ‘How you doin’?’

Okay, so apparently drunk Clarke resorted to pick-up lines from beloved sitcoms when trying to blow off a boy she was convinced may be the love of her life. Great. _You’re off to a great start._ Idiot.

‘You okay?’

His deep, sultry voice was a lot closer than she was ready for, and it wasn’t until she looked up and squinted that she realized he was leaning into her, hands out to hold her steady.

Black t-shirt. Low-cut denim. The beat-up pair of converse his mom had bought him a few years back for Christmas, before she got sick. Hair tousled, dark, low-hanging curls falling into his eyes, which were wary and…trailing down her figure currently.

Wait. What?

She glanced down to remind herself what she was wearing- black tank-top, jean shorts. Her blazer was slung over the back of the couch last time she checked. Her black, lace bra was peeking out from behind the cut of her top, not leaving much to the imagination. When she looked back to him, he averted his eyes away quickly, pink rising to his cheeks. Was that…was he _blushing?_

Right. She was O’s best friend. And a high school student. He was probably just embarrassed for her.

‘Uh,’ he cleared his throat, still not looking at her. ‘Murphy took Raven home. She wanted me to make sure you were good.’

Hm. Of course. Her first thought was that she should find her phone, see if O texted back about picking her up now that Raven’s wasn’t an option, and that she was glad Raven would be safe and looked after. That girl needed a _break_. She’d have to bum her number and thank her for the fun night.

Her second thought was much, much more sobering.

‘Wait a second,’ Clarke found herself placing a finger on Bellamy’s shoulder as she put together the pieces. ‘I come to your stupid party. You ignore me a _ll night._ And now you’re telling me that the only reason you’re even talking to me is because Raven asked you to?’

‘Uh,’ he put a hand on the back of his neck. She wanted to wring it.

‘Well, you know what? Fuck you, Bellamy. I’m not fucking okay. I came here to see _you._ I thought we were _friends._ And then you’re nowhere to be found all night. Well, _I_ found you. I saw who came out of your room,’ _Shit._ She needed to stop herself, but everything was coming out in slurs. It was the alcohol talking now. ‘And you know _what?_ I think you can do much better. She’s too…too…’

_She’s not me._

Clarke let it hang in the air.

When he didn’t respond, she sighed. Pushing past him, she started toward the living room to grab her things. The party was over. Guests were filing out.

She felt numb. She’d basically just confessed her feelings in a bout of drunken nonsense and was in no mood to deal with the aftermath. She needed to get out. Move on.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm, and before she could fully process what was happening, she was being pulled into a room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been going through some pretty big life changes, so haven't had time to work on this! :) Thank you for your support! Stick around for the next chapter for some Bellarke steam ;)


	6. Chapter 6

‘Get off-’

She fell silent as soon as she realized where she was. She’d hidden away with Octavia in here plenty of times before. They’d tuck themselves into the couch with whatever food and beer they could smuggle under their shirts from Bellamy’s fridge, sometimes getting lucky with a carton of ice cream (usually Rocky Road, his favorite), and watch _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ , the only boxset he owned that wasn’t a boring history docuseries. While Octavia gossiped away about the parties raging on around them, Clarke would sneak peeks at the room. The diagram of the Parthenon. The various star charts. The telescope in the corner. The record player. Open textbooks. She’d notice how everything was always supremely neat. The bed was always made- black sheets, black pillows, red plaid blanket folded at the end. 

It wasn’t now, of course. The sheets were crumpled, the pillows scattered. The blanket drooped, a sad heap dangling off the foot of the bed. Two red solo cups were on the bedside table, next to the alarm clock. And written on his whiteboard, the one he kept propped on his desk to jot down reminders about the week ahead, contained a phone number written in red, with the name _Echo_ drawn in loopy swirls beneath it. 

Her heart seized with dread in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to restart it, but she could only hear a faint ringing in her ears, and everything became hazy, fast. 

‘Clarke?’

She felt hands on her arms from behind. _His_ hands. Strong, firm, warm. The electricity that simmered at the touch was enough to bring her back to reality. She whirled around to face him. 

And promptly lost what she was going to say. 

He actually looked _nervous._ Out of place. There was nothing about the Bellamy she hated in front of her. This Bellamy looked…small. Vulnerable. 

Guilty.

He’d closed the door, so it was just the two of them. The murmur of the party winding down hummed in the background but beyond that, it was just their shared, heavy breaths. 

‘If this an apology, you’re doing a hell of a job so far,’ she crossed her arms testily. A challenge. 

He looked down at his feet. ‘I…I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. O said she was with Lincoln and…’

‘And what? That means I’m automatically uninvited?’ 

‘No! No, it’s just-’

‘Bellamy, you _saw_ me. Or at least, you had to at some point. I wasn’t exactly being subtle.’ She flashbacked to dancing on the coffee table with Raven. The alcohol in her system had started to make her feel dizzy, and the memory stirred up some vertigo. Taking a deep breath, she moved to the couch. ‘Look, I know you’re a college hot-shot and it would ruin your ‘street cred’ or whatever to be seen hanging out with a high school student, but seriously? No hey?’ He shuffled in place, stuffing his hands into his pockets, looking sheepish. _What the hell was up with him?_ She rolled her eyes. ‘Also you know how I feel about the 80s. It’s not like I really had a choice.’ 

It was true-although Bellamy was her motivation for coming tonight, it was the promise of bringing back her favorite decade that really sold her on the party. 

He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it quickly. He seemed to be struggling for words, something she’d never known Bellamy Blake to do in the entire time they’d known each other (aka, pretty much their whole lives). She had to admit, it was a little satisfying to see him thrown off his game. _Not such a hotshot now, are you?_

But she couldn’t wait around forever. ‘It’s fine if you don’t want me here, Bell’ – she choked a little, ignoring the twinge in her heart. _Please God don’t let that be true_ – ‘but…just say so? Don’t ignore me?’ 

‘I wasn’t ignoring you. And I do want you here.’ 

_ Wow. Shocker.  _ ‘Could’ve fooled me,’ she narrowed her eyes, trying to see through his hot and cold act, suppressing the butterflies that billowed in her stomach. _This jerk treated you like shit. Be quiet._ Seriously, what was with him? Clearly he’d avoided her. That meant he had to have been embarrassed by her, right? 

She didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear him say it. Standing abruptly, she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself. Her head swirled. ‘Look, I need to get my phone. O’s probably freaking out-’ 

She’d passed Bellamy and was almost to the door when: ‘I…I made a mistake, Clarke.’


	7. Chapter 7

_I made a mistake._

She turned to look at him. ‘What? What do you mean?’

‘I hooked up with someone tonight’ – _uh, yeah, got that part, buddy,_ she thought angrily, hoping to God he wasn’t about to ask her for advice. _Get out of there!_ Her heart screamed. _Save yourself!_ – ‘Someone I shouldn’t have.’

She stared at him blankly. ‘Okay.’ Biting down on her lip to keep from voicing a colorful string of curses, she racked her brain for what to say. Then: ‘You, uh…you want to talk about it?’

NOT. THAT. Definitely NOT THAT. A sob clenched her chest. Her throat clogged. She _did not_ want to hear about Bellamy’s hook-up. About ANY of his hook-ups. She just…. what else was a friend supposed to do but be a shoulder to cry on? A sounding board? She wanted to be there for him. But not…she couldn’t. Not with this. _Please don’t-_

She had gotten so worked up in her own head, she hadn’t heard him _laughing._

‘What? What’s so funny?’ She demanded, swiping quickly at the tears that had started to form.

He shook his head. ‘I hooked up with her because I’m trying to get over a crush.’

This time, she thought the entire world would be able to hear her heart plummet.

‘I’ve liked this person for a long time,’ he continued. Okay, so everyone heard it, except for Bellamy. _Of fucking course._ ‘But…I never thought they felt the same way so…I tried to forget. Move on.’

‘Oh,’ She tried to calm her racing mind. The room grew thick with silence. She broke it after a moment, quietly. ‘Did it work?’

He laughed again.

She still didn’t get what was so fucking funny.

‘Clarke.’

He was staring at her, weirdly expectant. Eyebrows raised. Lop-sided grin. Like he was waiting for her to figure something out.

‘Yeah?’

His expression grew softer.

It clicked then.

‘Oh.’

He took a step toward her, his smile sweet, kind, but also anxious. Like he’d been wanting to do this for a while. The only problem was, Clarke was still struggling with what it was he was doing exactly.

‘Wait,’ She put her hand up to stop him. He hesitated, eyes suddenly unsure, all confidence lost. ‘Me? You’re talking about me? You have a crush on…me?’

No matter how slowly she said it, she couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Was she dreaming? She had to be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Surely this wasn’t Bellamy fucking Blake standing in her front of her, reciprocating all the things (well, maybe not _all_ , given Clarke was pretty sure they were meant to be) she’d felt for…months. Years. Nope. It had to be a mirage. A trick of the light. The alcohol conjuring up something she only wished would happen. _Was it too lame to say pinch me?_

He nodded, smiling.

 _Well, then._  

”You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read :) Just something I've been toying with for myself, thought I'd share! Comments are always welcome. Bellamy and Clarke are my favorite! We'll see where this goes!


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